


Dirty Little Fantasies

by NancyHartigan



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Kinks, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-07 20:35:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyHartigan/pseuds/NancyHartigan
Summary: A little bit of roleplay can really spice things up, no?Just a collection of characters deciding to get a little creative in the bedroom after the game. I do take requests if there's a scene you want to see with any of the aforementioned pairings! Each chapter will feature a different fantasy for each pairing, and the chapter titles will typically tell you exactly what you're in for.





	1. Markus/North: The Rescue

“Well. Look who it is.”

Markus had just sat down in his old white coat. Somehow, it had not gotten too damaged from a few years of lack of wear, and the old bullet holes only seemed to add to the illusion of what they had already discussed and set up.

When it came down to it, North was still designed to explore fantasies, and well, after Markus had finally gotten the money required to do a little bit of retrofitting for himself, he’d been finding his own appetite for North to be borderline insatiable. It was an entirely new experience, feeling desire in a way that was probably the absolute opposite of mentally stimulating, but it seemed that North had been up to the task.

His eyes raked over her body, perfectly designed to be as alluring as possible, perfectly on display in her push-up bra and lace panties, the only other thing on her were a pair of black stilettos and a smile while she approached him, one hand going to his shoulder as she circled behind him.

“I’m sorry, you must have me confused with one of your master’s friends,” Markus replied evenly.

“I know who you are.” North tilted her head to the side, her hair loose already and falling over her shoulder. “Markus, right? The leader of the deviants.”

Markus reached up to carefully grab her arm, his synthetic skin peeling back and locking his eyes with hers. North stayed in a feigned stunned silence for a while, blinking down at him.

“You don’t have to do this,” he told her slowly, lazily, slowly letting her go. “You’re free now.”

North looked around a little, playing her role well. “Markus, I…”

“Go find Jericho. You’ll be safe there.”

Her hands fell, and she looked down at the floor, at a loss. “Please, I don’t know how to thank you properly. You can’t go out there yet, you’re going to be _seen_ , Markus.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think there were so many androids on your way in? They planned it and you fell for it.” Her head fell down a little more, and she bent forward slightly until her forehead touched his in a silent “apology.”

Markus couldn’t help running his hands over the back of her thighs. North was absolutely beautiful when she was in barely anything at all. “It’s alright. We’ll figure out a way out of here. There’s a back door, right? If you can get me there, I can do the rest.”

North took a moment to gather herself, leaning into Markus’ touch as much as she could, trying to coax Markus’ hand up just an inch or so, before she straightened up, nodding and taking him by the hand to help him up. “Let’s go, I think I know a way we won’t be caught, but we have to be fast.

Markus rose to follow her, and they crept out of the bedroom door, peering both ways, the sound of North’s heels clacking against the hardwood as they moved against the wall, trying not to be seen by their invisible enemies. When they got to the banister, Markus carefully lifted her by the waist to put her on the banister.

“It’ll make a lot of noise,” Markus nodded down to her shoes, taking his sweet time looking over her long legs, the delicate curve of her hips and flat stomach, settling on the soft mounds of silica for a little longer than he should have.

He snapped out of his intense staring when he felt her hand on his chin, forcing his head to look in those warm, beautiful eyes that tended to remind him of the first cup of coffee, dark and glistening and begging for attention. “Be ready to run, Markus.”

Carefully, he let her go and hopped on the railing himself, following her down with a practiced ease. Markus moved toward the front door, pulling on the handle.

“Front door’s locked.”

North grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the dining room. “This way!”

Markus followed, their steps falling heavy in their sprint, only stopping once they barreled through the way to the studio, their simulated breathing heavy.

“You did it, Markus…”

She took a few steps to close the gap between them, her lips slotting against his in such a way that he was instantly reminded that she fit against him so perfectly, and he kissed back, arms caressing her bare back.

Finally, she broke the kiss to place another against his cheek, then his ear. “Is there any way I can repay you for this?”

Markus nodded slightly, moving his lips to capture hers again before lifting her and taking her to one of the tables, which he had cleared in preparation for this. He didn’t set her down until he could feel the wood against the front of his thighs, and was very careful to set her down, his lips moving to her jaw, down her neck, his teeth catching her collarbone while his hands, now free, moved to push her bra above her breasts, cupping them and pressing the heels underneath her nipples, feeling them harden under his ministrations and feeling North squirm beneath them.

North’s voice had picked a slightly higher pitch when she spoke next. “Are you just wanting to tease me, or should I be preparing myself for a more personal touch?”

He pulled away to take in how North looked. It was funny. In the moonlight, she was washed over with blue. Between the warmth in her brown eyes, the red of her hair and the rose of her lips, she almost looked different.

That didn’t mean that Markus was going to hesitate, but his fingers hooked in her panties and pulled them down slowly, so she could feel every inch of skin they caressed, not breaking eye contact.

“Just tell me when to stop.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

Markus let his pants slip down, giving his new equipment a few electric, experimental tugs, and pulled North’s legs carefully toward the edge of the table and around his waist, guiding himself into her entrance and pausing to gasp a little.

Damn thing was still sensitive as anything, and North felt impossibly tight. He could see errors pushing into his vision, warning him about a sensory overload, but he just pushed them aside in favor of supporting his weight on his elbows and moving to claim another kiss from North, picking a nice, slow pace.

He loved the feeling of finally being inside her, from where their noses were brushing together all the way to the feeling of the narrow heels digging into the synthetic skin of his back, tearing it slightly, but that was nothing that he couldn’t repair, according to the damage report.

Markus slowly picked up his pace, drunk off the sounds that North was making, the urgency brought on by the pressure building up and encouraging him to move faster, until he finally heard himself cry out himself, his vision blanking for a few seconds, his own audio processors picking up that North had not been that far behind him, nearly screaming his name.


	2. Hank and Connor: Modern Vampires Suck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, yeah, when your fuck buddy is licking blood samples all over any crime scene, your mind tends to go places it shouldn't.

When the idea of messing around casually with Connor came up, though, it was all that Hank could think about. He knew what Connor tended to do at crime scenes, it was like some sort of wild fascination for the android, and that it came out of his mouth with hardly any hesitation when Connor asked just sent him reeling from all the bad fanfiction and horrible “newer” plots. Hank had to sit him down and explain explicitly: Dracula. Akasha. Meier Link. The antagonist from _Enter, Night._ Not Lestat. Not Edward. Not Rose. And really anything but Louis if you go Anne Rice.

And also, if you go down the _Enter, Night_ path, Connor, people _will_ notice he’s missing and they have to go to work tomorrow, so the former three would be preferable. He was (mostly) kidding about that one.

Connor fit the role perfectly well, if you asked Hank. He already moved silently and had waited until Hank had nearly fallen asleep in his bed, in that ethereal limbo, before he felt the movement of the mattress and the cool weight settling on top of him.

Hank didn’t have to fake the slight start when he felt hands caressing his sides, his t-shirt inching up slightly to expose his midriff, dazed enough to sit up and comply as Connor slipped it over his head.

“What the hell…?” Hank muttered, waking enough to remember what exactly his partner was up to, and wanting to keep in character. Himself, of course, because that’s apparently what got Connor going.

A cool hand moved to caress his jaw underneath his beard, a thumb crossing over his bottom lip. Connor looked like the fucking cat that got the damn canary already, illuminated solely by the moonlight peeking through the open curtains and the blue of his LED.

Plastic bastard didn’t say anything though, just kept that cool, arrogant look on his face while he stared at him.

Okay. Yeah, Hank could work with the old school, incubus-like style Connor seemed to have chosen and let himself get lost in his eyes for a while, letting the heat rise between them until he finally got the relief of lips against his, as chaste and sweet as it was.

Piece of plastic or not, Connor could be extremely attractive when he was actually making an effort to not be a doofus. This was working to his advantage.

He was acting like they had all the time in the world, which made it all the worse. His lips were sliding against his lazily, the hand on his chin moving to slide downwards, over his chest, moving toward his sternum and guiding him down. Hank followed, as per his role, putty in Connor’s hands in more ways than one as Connor’s lips moved to settle on his neck.

Hank’s head arched backward, exposing more of his throat for Connor’s teeth, currently gentle against his skin. Playing with his food, no doubt. By time Connor’s teeth sank into the thin skin of his neck, the pleasure was overriding the pain and all Hank could do was suck in his breath through his teeth.

Connor’s hand had moved from his chest sometime, and was currently pressing against his dick, just enough to let Hank enjoy the friction, which he of course took advantage of, pressing his hips forward, enjoying the rush.

Thankfully, Connor let him rut against him for a while, at least until he felt Connor retreat, tongue snaking out to soothe the already deep red mark on his flesh that Hank didn’t doubt for a minute that he left.

“Thank you, Hank. Are you ready for your reward?”

“Jesus…” Hank muttered out, wondering what the hell his fuck buddy had planned next. It wasn’t like there were that many options, given the circumstances, and he was a little dizzy, mind focused on the feeling of the saliva on his skin cooling, the general wet feeling it was leaving.

Connor had settled between his legs, having already fished his cock out of his boxers, pretty eyes looking up while his tongue started at the root, right where it met his balls, his hand moving agonizingly slow.

Hank shifted to sit up a little, head going back again at Connor traveled up his shaft, but quickly shifted his attention back when Connor spoke.

“Keep your attention on me. I want to watch your face.”

Dammit. Connor was damn good at this. That was just the right tone to take with Hank to make sure blue eyes were locked against brown. Somehow, Connor still could keep that sweet face of his going in this kind of situation, as if he was watching for any microexpression that might cross Hank’s face.

One hand reached down to run through his hair, but Connor shifted his hand out of the way. “No, no, no, just sit back and enjoy this.”

Damn cocktease, he somehow still managed to be one even with his lips just a hair’s breadth from the cock he was teasing. Thankfully, once Hank’s hand found itself digging into the sheets, Connor chose to continue, eyes still seeking out his own.

What Hank wanted to do was reach up and throat fuck him like crazy, watch that little light of his cycle through every color it had available to it, but it looked like Connor had already taken control of the situation, one hand caressing the inner part of his thigh, the other gently massaging his sack, without a care in the world.

If he was ten years younger, he probably would have busted there and then from the pretty sight that he was stuck with and then just let Connor keep going to get him back up. Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about that now, and he just let Connor continue blowing him.

He didn’t know if Connor downloaded anything to help him portray his damn character right, but there was just something about not being able to do anything but look in his eyes that sent Hank over the edge, watching Connor pull away and catching it all on his tongue.

Walking to the bathroom to clean up was not an easy task when your legs might as well be Jell-O, but he turned on the light to get himself clean up, pausing in front of the mirror to check his hickey, which, to his horror, had been oozing, trails of red going toward the back of his neck and down his clavicle.

“Agh, Jesus, Connor,” Hank cursed, placing a washcloth over it. “How the hell am I supposed to explain this at work tomorrow?”

Connor glanced into the open bathroom door from the bed, already sprawled out. “Isn’t that what turtlenecks are for, Lieutenant?”


End file.
